Take Me Away
by SLBStevie
Summary: George tries to deal with the loss of his twin.


Title: Take Me Away

Pairing: None

Status: Oneshot

Genre: Angst

Rating: MA

Warnings: Slash, angst, death

Word count: 1140

Summary: George tries to deal with the loss of his twin.

A/N: Title taken from the song of the same name by Kpop group UKiss. Very touching and sad song. Please enjoy the fic.

George Weasley watched the Quidditch game with only half an interest. The others he'd arrived with - his family, and Harry and Hermione, who were as good as family by then - were several feet away, separated from him by three seats, the way he had chosen it to be. Nobody protested anymore; since the final battle, George had left physical gaps between himself and everyone else as though allowing room for his brother. He hadn't had physical contact with a soul since that night. He felt fairly certain that he never would again.

A gasp was let out dramatically by the crowd as the Seeker of the Chudley Cannons performed a maneuver that reminded George instantly of Harry when they'd played together. It was daring and dangerous, but he righted his broom at just the last moment, the Snitch in his left hand, the ground less than a foot from his broom. George stood, momentary excitement and exhilaration overtaking his low mood. He swung around to the seat next to him. "Did you see that, Fr-" He cut himself off suddenly, staring at empty space.

An icy hand slithered its fingers around his guts, squeezing. He felt like his heart would rupture, the way it was pounding. For one moment, he had truly felt Fred in the seat beside him, practically heard the excitement in the voice of the prankster. The rest of the group had also cut their cheers short at the outburst from George. He allowed himself to glance in their direction and instantly regretted it. Sympathy, no, pity painted every face he could see, a sea of redheads punctuated by brunettes, all looking at him like they understood, like they could relate. He felt his stomach twist horribly. What did they know?

He took his seat again and faced away from his family, stoutly ignoring them for the remainder of the game.

His hand skimmed over a shelf stocked with potions. He had been meaning to reopen the doors of the joke shop for some time, but even nearly a year later and he still couldn't figure out how to manage it all on his own. And besides, he had a special brew in the back, one he'd been working on for a week, one made especially for him to test out, as he and Fred had always done with their new concoctions.

He dropped his hand to the side and made his way to the back of the shop, stepping behind the curtain partitioning the front from the rear. His first stop was in front of the full-length mirror in the very back corner of the room.

He observed his reflection for a few moments in silence. Then he smirked and whispered, "There you are, Freddie. Why weren't you at the Quidditch game earlier? You missed the best move by the Cannons' new Seeker, Corand Greenlast. It was one for the records, Freddie. You would have loved it." He raised his left hand and made a thumbs-up, his doppleganger doing the same with its right. 'Just like old times,' he thought to himself. He turned his hand to place his palm openly toward the mirror, fingers pointed up. "You've really been working on perfecting this symmetry thing," he complimented. "Not even a moment of hesitation!" He mimicked his left hand with his right, both plams toward the reflection, and a genuine smile came over him as he watched his moves mirrored. Then he extended his arms outward as though to touch palms with the other, and was met by the cool glass surface in front of him. He closed his eyes, not letting his smile falter even as a lump formed in his throat and his heart throbbed painfully. Then his hands dropped away and he turned the mirror to face the wall, whispering, "Maybe we can talk later, Freddie old boy."

He turned to glance around the room, noting everything in its rightful place before letting his eyes fall to the cauldron left with a brewing potion. The potion was just about ready, and George stepped to it with an eagerness as well as a little dread. He drew his wand and stirred the green liquid slowly. Then, hands shaking just a bit, he pulled out a vial and filled it. The liquid gleamed brightly in the dim light of the shop, reminding him exactly of a spell he'd only seen used during the final battle. This potion would never see shelves, he knew. There was barely half a vialful left in the bottom of the cauldron. He had been sure to make only enough for himself to try.

His grip on the glass container was almost tight enough to break the small object. Then, without allowing himself any longer to stop and think or possibly reconsider, he downed the potion in one gulp. It tasted oddly sweet, where he had expected a vile flavor. Then he sank to his knees as the weight of what he'd done stole over him. He soon found himself lying flat on his back on the cold stone floor of the back room, his heart racing.

A hand, hot and a little sweaty, settled into his own then. He blinked for a moment, confused, before turning his head. Lying beside him on the floor was Fred, his face lit up with a mischievous grin. "Alright, there, Georgie?" the twin asked quietly.

George tightened his grip on Fred's hand. "Alright," he answered through the thickness in his throat. He raised his free hand into the air, bringing it slowly toward Fred. The other did as he did, his hand coming around to meet with his own. This time, though, instead of feeling the cool glass separating them, George's palm met skin, and he gripped the hand as he let out a harsh sob. "Freddie, where have you been?" he asked.

"Here and there," came the reply. "I've been around. Waiting for you."

George pulled himself to a sitting position, leaning down on one hand. "Been waiting for you, too."

Fred smiled, a bright, genuine smile. He brought a hand to George's jawline. With another sob, Gaorge threw his arms around his brother, letting his tears soak into the other's shirt. He felt Fred's lips graze past his temple, his skin and his breath so warm and alive. "Take me away," he whispered against Fred's shoulder.

It was long moments before he pulled away, his vision growing blurry as he became dizzier. He lay down again, Fred going to the floor with him. He kept both of his twin's hands in his own, closing his eyes. He didn't know if Fred would be waiting on the other side for him, but he knew he couldn't stay on this side anymore without him. One way or another, he would find Fred.

He was smiling as his heart slowed to a stop.


End file.
